The Liar
by Perenne
Summary: They say behind every great man is a great woman… but they failed to mention that the woman behind Lord Voldemort wasn’t so much his backup as a rather conniving back-stabber, and quite good at hiding it too. Meet Belladonna, pretty girl extraordinaire and paradigm of vanity, as she goes on to warp the course of history. A story of intrigue, lies and Voldemort.


**CHAPTER ONE**

At exactly one o'clock in the morning, the sixth-year boys in Slytherin House rose as one from their beds. Silent as the dead, the unlikely procession crept along the abandoned corridors of Hogwarts castle; the path they walked familiar despite the lack of light.

At their front strode a single figure, almost indistinguishable in the semi-darkness. With every turn they took, the leader bade his following to a halt and crept ahead, looking to the sides sharply. His intent was clearly to remain unseen, but the certainty that the dungeons must be deserted gave confidence to his gait.

They were not, alas. Not alone, that is. In precisely that instant, a girl was stalking purposefully towards the gathering, though her silent approach went unnoticed.

The boys, however, were more in numbers, and the girl's hearing didn't fail her.

"Homenium revelio," Belladonna Rosier whispered softly. Right on cue, her wand rotated on her palm, pointing towards the closest corner. Someone was coming! Startled, Bella leapt to the side and took refuge in the first available classroom. She'd wait for whoever else there was to pass. But what if she was found? Unsure, Bella crept into the first hiding spot she saw: a broom cupboard. Cliché, but it would have to do.

As the seconds trickled by, however, she became increasingly nervous.

'This hiding place is far too obvious!' she thought. With alarm, Bella saw that the location her wand was pointing at was now much closer to the classroom door – and still approaching! The cupboard she'd hid in was open towards the back, Bella now realised, behind which there was a curtain. Thinking on her feet, she drew the curtain over her slim figure and hastily shut the closet. And not a second too soon, for only instants later the classroom door opened.

Bella couldn't see them, but she could tell that it was no small gathering that had walked in. Afraid she'd be found, Bella held her breath, and for a moment, nothing happened. After a few seconds of shuffling, the door went shut.

"What do we do now?" someone whispered. The voice was too quiet to be distinguishable, and as much as she tried, the murmured reply eluded Bella. After that came a long silence, a silence in which she could only curse Merlin and Morgana for her helpless situation.

Bella knew that she'd have to stay here for however long these people did, and there were other things, pressing things, which she had to take care of right now. If the situation were any different, she would've delighted in staying and eavesdropping to her heart's content. After all, Bella loved being privy to exclusive information, and following that logic, this clandestine and clearly exclusive gathering she'd inadvertently walked into must be quite the scoop. There was however a different secret she was hunting for tonight, and everything else could wait.

As much as Bella loved having her own, other people's secrets were something she had little tolerance for. Those were rare though. Since she could remember, Bella was used to be in the middle of each and every gossip, the first anyone of relevance ran to for counsel. And at the uppermost place on Bella's list of "relevant" people was, of course, Bella's newly acquired boyfriend.

His name was Tom Riddle – didn't sound like much, she knew – but Tom more than made up for it in terms of, well, everything. He was devastatingly charming, funny, witty (yes, Bella was aware that those overlapped), and the list went on. It also helped that Tom had a nice face. A very nice face.

Despite his family being unknown, Tom was, for all intents and purposes, the most popular boy of their year; even more so than Alphard Black, who came from wealth and was captain of the quidditch team. Still, Alphard just lacked that something which made Tom undoubtably special. But Black's temperament wasn't a pressing concern, at any rate. The pressing concern was why Bella's boyfriend was keeping secrets!

She may not do great at academics, but Bella wasn't an idiot. Tom Riddle was keeping secrets, secrets he refused to part with no matter how subtly Bella needled for the truth. And Bella always got what she wanted. If people didn't readily throw it at her (which was rare), she took care of the problem herself.

Earlier that day, Bella had managed to eavesdrop on a conversation between Tom and Abraxas Malfoy which was clearly not meant to be heard. She'd instantly known that she had struck gold whenTom had covertly told Abraxas to pass on a message (Bella didn't know to whom), the message being: 'same place, same time, tonight.'

It was rather cryptic, but Bella didn't care. She'd decided to find out what Tom was up to even if it cost her some precious hours of beauty sleep. But now… here she was: trapped in a broom closet and with no way to keep looking for Tom.

Suddenly, a disquieting thought struck her.

He wasn't having an affair with Dorea Black, was he? Bella had seen that nasty chit make eyes at Tom plenty of times last year, though apparently she was now madly in love with Charlus Potter. But what if that was only a front, though? Charlus Potter may come from a well-off family, but him and his cohorts were still a gaggle of gryffindors. Gryffindor was one of the four houses in which Hogwarts students were divided, and in direct enmity with Bella's house, Slytherin.

But her thoughts strayed no further, for the door opened once again and more people stepped inside. The anticipation was almost palpable in the air.

Then, a calm voice cut through the tension like a knife through butter.

"Welcome, my knights."

It was a voice which Bella knew very well.

"Abraxas, Nathaniel, I see you have brought McDougal and Weasley. Well done."

…it was Tom's voice. Tom was the ring-leader of… whatever this was! But why McDougal? Why Weasley? What on earth did Bella's boyfriend want with those two losers? They were both gryffindors, and, worse yet, an utter security hazard! Just last Friday, in an unfortunate potions lesson, Septimus Weasley and Jeffrey McDougal had nearly managed to spill corrosive acid all over Tom's face (and Dorea Black's, though that wouldn't have been too tragic).

But jokes aside, it had been a really close call. In the end, Tom had been understanding of their mistake, if a little pissed. Honestly, Bella had been amazed that he hadn't snapped at the pair. But if there was really no bad blood, pun unintended, what on earth were Weasley and McDougal doing here?

"So it was you who had us kidnapped, Riddle!" That was Septimus' voice. "What on earth are we doing here? Tell them to release us right this instant!"

He sounded scandalised and more than a little agitated.

"I don't think so, Weasley." That was definitely Abraxas Malfoy speaking.

"Riddle! Please!" And there went Jeffrey. Meanwhile, Tom hadn't made a sound. Bella almost expected him to start laughing and say that it was all a joke, a sleepover party or something, but no such luck.

"Indeed I think not." Tom finally spoke. His voice was soft, yet it sounded crystal clear over the gnashing silence.

"What do you mean, you think not?" Septimus braved it again, though he was betrayed by the slight trembling of his voice. "If this is a joke, it's really not funny! Cut it out, Riddle!"

The ensuing silence was almost worse than any reply Tom could've made.

"Yes, Tom!" McDougal added weakly. "We're all friends here, right?"

"Friends?" Tom seemed to taste the word in his mouth. "I was under the impression that friends don't carelessly spill acid over one another."

"So this is what this is about? Listen, Riddle, we're sorry, alright?"

"I'm afraid not, Septimus." Tom's voice was unperturbed. "Sorry won't cut it."

"What the hell! Then what will?"

Bella could sense that Septimus was near tears. McDougal's silence was also telling.

"Tie them up," came Tom's voice again. "Non-magically."

Shuffling sounds. By the looks of it, Septimus put up a struggle, though he had no wand. Neither did McDougal. Their attempt at freedom was cut down in an impersonal manner. Swift and ruthless. After a minute or two, things calmed down and only McDougal's harsh breathing could be heard.

"Alright, so you've got us. Now what?" Septimus asked defiantly.

Tom ignored his question. "I believe you're familiar with this?" He must have pulled something out, for the room went completely still. Then, seemingly struck, Septimus stuttered:

"No, no, no, no… No. Riddle, no. Please."

Jeffrey McDougal whimpered.

But Tom seemed unruffled. "Don't be like that, now," he said teasingly. "Aren't we all friends, Septimus? And what is it again that your beloved muggles like to say? Ah, yes. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, my… friend."

Bella's blood went cold. He wasn't planning to spill acid over their faces in retaliation, was he? Septimus seemed to have reached a similar conclusion.

"Riddle, you can't. We'll tell Dumbledore. You can't."

"Oh, but it won't be me. No. Cadmus here feels up to the task. Isn't that right, Cadmus?"

"Ca-Cadmus?" Septimus' voice had gone up an octave. "But you… we're friends!"

Bella knew him. Cadmus Everett. Gryffindor fifth year. Just what on earth…?

Someone stepped forward.

Septimus' voice wavered as he addressed his housemate. "Cad, hey, no way, man! We're mates. You wouldn't… I… you…" His vocabulary seemed to have evaporated.

There was a long instant where no one said anything. Bella wondered what face Cadmus was making.

Then, Tom's voice rang out again:

"Go on, Cadmus."

Vacillating steps.

"Cad, no! No! Please! Don't!" Septimus had come alive again. "Don't I matter to you at all? I know we're not that close, but – we've played quidditch together – and chess! Please! Would you really pick me over Riddle?"

"I… I'm s-sorry, Seven." So this was Cadmus. He sounded like he was about to be sick to the stomach. "I just… you did nearly spill acid over Tom's face."

"And you believe that actually spilling it over mine is the answer?! Don't be daft!"

"Tut, tut. I do believe you especially are far from entitled to be calling anyone daft, Septimus," Tom commented.

Laughter broke out in the classroom. Bella could almost see Septimus' telltale flush spreading over his neck and ears. McDougal was meanwhile whimpering and no longer part of the conversation.

"Shall I explain in terms you'll manage to understand, 'Seven'?" Tom mocked. "This… procedure won't differ (much) from ripping off a band aid; it is better to be quick. Cadmus?"

Cadmus' steps advanced on the bound Septimus and McDougal. Bella could hear the former struggling against his restraints.

"Uncork it," Tom ordered softly. To his command followed the telltale sound made by the uncapping of a bottle.

"No! Please! I'll do your homework! I'll… I'll do anything!" McDougal's voice sounded more like that of a dying kitten.

"You'd grovel?" Tom inquired with interest.

"Yes. I… Anything!"

There was a tense silence again. Then, cheering. Presumably McDougal had grovelled.

"What about you, Weasley?" Abraxas Malfoy jeered. "Feeling up to it?"

Septimus answered immediately.

"No."

Tom whistled. "You do your house proud," he jested. Again, the crowd laughed and clapped. "But," Tom carried on, and all went quiet, "I have to say, I admire your… ah, shall we call it, bullheadedness? I'm not sure whether there's such a thing as a ginger-haired bull. It would make for a fine sight."

Again, raucous laughter filled the room.

"And yet," Tom's voice lifted over all others – Bella could almost picture him spreading his arms in a gesture of power. "Let it be said that… Lord Voldemort is merciful above all. Septimus, you have the gift of my forgiveness. Obliviate."

And, just like that, Tom had wiped his victims' memory. Cackling followed.

"Send Weasley and McDougal on their way," he then added to his followers, almost as an afterthought. The spell broke, and sounds of activity once again permeated through the walls of Bella's storage cupboard. People were puttering about, though Tom didn't seem to have moved from the spot.

"What do we do with them?" someone asked, referring to Septimus and Jeffrey. And wasn't the speaker Mark Daggsworth, a soft–spoken Ravenclaw? He was a part of this freak-show as well?

"Knock them out," Tom instructed. "A simple spell should do. You might as well stow them in that closet. With luck, someone will find the pair before they wake up and get the wrong idea… I'm sure Samantha would be up to making a few prefect rounds before classes with me."

Bella froze.

Someone had opened the door.

Light fell over her face, and there was a moment of silence.

Then, something hit her.

It took all of her self-control not to scream. Bella's muscles were coiled in preparation, but nothing came. The light diminished again. The wardrobe door had been closed. She hadn't been caught.

And then Bella realised that it was McDougal's passed out form that had hit her. She nearly screamed again.

The next few minutes passed in a daze. Or perhaps it had been more than a few; Bella wouldn't know. She had retreated to a far little corner of her mind, and was concentrating solely on staring blankly ahead and waiting for Tom and his followers to vacate the classroom.

Like all excruciating waits, this one eventually ended.

But her situation hadn't much improved: Bella was in a wardrobe with two unconscious gryffindors draped all over her. Carefully, she extricated herself from the awkward position she was in and turned to leave. Though then she hesitated. She was very tempted to leave Septimus and Jeffrey where they were, but then Bella remembered what Tom had said about returning in the morning with a witness to cause a misunderstanding.

Bella held little regard for gryffindors in general, but she wasn't inhuman. There was a chance she'd be caught, but Bella couldn't bring herself not to interfere. Not after she'd witnessed what she had.

"Renervate," she whispered quietly, pointing her wand at McDougal. The blonde began to stir instantly, and Bella knew that that was her cue to leave.

During the returning walk to the slytherin common room she thought of nothing, focusing simply on not getting caught out of bed. The worst part was when she actually made it into bed.

'What now?' she thought, as she stared at the ceiling. The night's events began raining down on her unbidden: Tom, so calm and collected, even while he ordered a fifth year to pour acid over his housemates' faces. Septimus Weasley, brave yet oh so scared, because, who wouldn't be in his situation? Then there was the laughing crowd, the whimpering McDougal, and worst of all, the frightened silence while Tom spoke his commands.

Who was he?

Where was Bella's boyfriend? Where was the amiable boy, the natural charmer who had won her heart?

Who was this controlling stranger? This cold and collected version of Tom, that had made a whole crowd recoil in fear?

And most importantly: which one was the real Tom?

These thoughts plagued Bella's uneasy mind until she finally fell into a fitful sleep hours later.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The next morning came, and, like all other girls in her dorm, Bella crawled out of bed (just barely). When she was conscious enough to be coherent, Bella resolved to go down to breakfast looking stunning. And indeed, by the time she had finished dressing and showering, Bella concluded that she looked even more gorgeous than usual, if she did say so herself. She'd spent a long while making sure not one hair looked out of place in her complicated braid, and not a single trace of eye-bag remained visible on her skin.

But there was a reason behind her efforts; a calculation behind her beauty. Instinctively, Bella knew that no one could suspect she'd stayed up late last night. If Tom found out… would he put the dots together? Bella didn't want to risk it.

Today was the start of the summer holidays, so she could sleep her exhaustion off later. Now she'd just have to pull through the day while not looking all but ready to drop dead. Just to make sure no one noticed absolutely anything, Bella had cast numerous glamours on her face to conceal her prominent eye-bags. The charms she'd employed were working fine, but they'd be taking a constant influx of magic for as long as Bella kept them up, which would be until the late afternoon, when the Hogwarts Express inevitably arrived at King's Cross.

Moreover, she couldn't yawn even once, or let her eyes droop, for as observant as Tom was, he would surely take notice. If Bella was lucky, she might be able to take a nap later, provided she played it off as boredom, but still.

Was she being paranoid? Maybe she was, but at any rate, she felt like a lot was riding on her appearance being perfectly pristine on the outside.

"Looking at the mirror again? How long has it been this time? A millennia?"

The uncalled for voice of Dorea Black shook Bella out of her reverie.

"I think I'd rather not look, since your hideous form is now reflected upon it," Bella bit back.

"Please," rebuffed Dorea. "Are you trying to make me believe you'd be able to take your eyes off of yourself for even a second?"

"I suppose you're not entirely wrong, considering my limited options," Bella retorted with vitriol, giving Dorea a pointed once-over.

"Tch, suit yourself, bimbo." Dorea stalked out of the room.

To be fair, she wasn't exactly an ugly girl, though she wasn't a sight to behold either. No, what made Dorea truly shine was her strong personality, which put her at odds with Bella's own. Bella had realised that Dorea would be her competition since day one, and so had Dorea, apparently. Before they'd even spoken for the first time, the two had already been sworn enemies.

They'd taken their ambition through rather different routes though. As she went down for breakfast, Bella reflected upon this.

Her own beauty had allowed her to quickly climb the ranks amongst the girls in their dormitory, and from there on it had been a walk in the park. Once popular, always popular, or so it had been for Bella. Though soon, just the dormitory hadn't been enough, and she had quickly decided to broaden her horizons by signing up to the frog choir and the drama club, where she'd effectively managed to gain the approval off pretty much all the girls in attendance, slytherin or otherwise.

Dorea, however, hadn't taken the scenic route. She'd gone straight to the point: boys. She'd befriended the lot of them swiftly, something which was a real achievement considering she was a girl. From there on, Dorea had worked her way up to the slytherin quidditch team through hard work and tears, an accomplishment which had immediately bolstered her status and connections both inside and outside of Slytherin. Not content with that, Dorea had also gone ahead and befriended all the girls who were a little more out of the loop, making common front with them against Bella.

Luckily, neither Bella nor Dorea had much time to be worrying about academics, so none of them won in that aspect.

Which left them at a bit of a draw, though Bella would never admit to this out loud. The acquisition of her boyfriend, however, had been quite a victory in that respect; Tom was after all the most popular boy in their year, arguably the school, and he'd chosen Bella over everyone else. After yesterday's events though, Bella wasn't so sure anymore what to make of that.

"Aisha. Morning too you too." Speaking of the devil. Tom scooted over on his bench at the breakfast table to make room for Bella, who gracefully seated herself next to him. He had the annoying habit of calling her by her first name, rather than her middle one. Bella only tolerated this because it was her boyfriend doing it, and others had labeled it as "endearing" besides. Personally, she'd rather be remembered as Bella, which meant 'beautiful', than Aisha, which stood for 'alive'. Bella already knew that she was alive, thank you very much. A name like that would only result in bad jokes at her funeral.

Tom seemed to think otherwise, however, so Bella had left it at that.

"Morning, Tom," she greeted neutrally. "What's on the menu today for Hogwarts' cuisine? Wait, let me guess. Porridge, and, humm… porridge?"

It was easy to act as if nothing had happened.

It was also crucial that Tom not notice anything amiss.

Following her lead, Tom chuckled.

"Let me recommend our finest dish, my dear. Just for you, we'll make an exception."

"Oh, really," drawled Bella.

They looked at each other.

"Really."

"I'm all ears."

"For starters, let me present you with our most appetising cornflakes. They have an extra on freshly mashed porridge which should be just viscous enough to pass off as a screwt's excrements."

Bella fixed Tom with a serious expression.

"These are some serious claims you're making, my good sir. Are you prepared to back them up?"

"I am."

Following that, Tom cracked a smirk, and, unwittingly, Bella dissolved into a fit of giggles, all the building tension from last night released at once.

Maybe the whole thing had been a dream? Or a bad prank? Tom hadn't actually done anything to those gryffindors, after all. Maybe he'd just wanted to give them a scare, and him and his friends had agreed on what to say and how to act beforehand. Bella was aware that some slytherins could sometimes go a little overboard with their revenge, but mostly they stuck to harmless pranks and petty feuds. It never escalated.

"I think I'm gonna miss this lame porridge anyway," Bella said conversationally, dipping her spoon into the bowl. Silence was to be avoided at all costs.

Tom nodded his assent, though seemed distracted. With a jolt, Bella realised that he was looking right at the gryffindor table. Septimus and McDougal had made it to breakfast.

"Tom?"

"Ah," Tom seemed to return to reality. "Apologies, Aisha. Yes, you're right. As much as our breakfast resembles a screwt excrement, it still tastes like Hogwarts."

Bella knew what he meant. It almost tasted like home.

"Yeah… Another year is over, huh? The next one'll be our last," she said, feeling suddenly nostalgic. "I almost don't want it to end."

"Likewise," replied Tom, in clipped tones. "The castle does grow on you."

"Even Dumbledore?" Bella questioned, flashing him a flinty smirk. Tom had never admitted it, but Bella was one hundred percent certain that he held a grudge against their transfigurations professor. He even had a special facial expression just for him, which was more than anyone else could claim. Basically, it was like Tom's neutral face, which appeared serene-looking and almost bored, with lowered lids and all, except for the almost bored part. Whenever Dumbledore was close, you could rely on Tom to open his eyes more widely than usual and, well… basically that was it. Bella was quite certain no one else had picked up on this minute detail, but it was infallible! Tom was like a human radar. His expression would transition from a handsome smirk, like the one he had now, for instance, into an attentive and sort of tense expression… like the one he'd just made a second ago… shit.

"He's behind me," Bella said with horror. "Don't tell me he's—"

"Ms Rosier," Dumbledore's telltale cheerful voice accosted Bella from indeed right behind her.

Bella turned in her seat so quickly that it almost gave her whiplash.

"Professor. Do you need something?"

"In fact, yes, I do," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Namely, your company in my office, Ms Rosier, if it is no trouble. You are free to finish breakfast and visit me later, if you'd prefer."

Well, he'd already ruined the mood. It'd be best to get it over with quickly. Shooting the whole table a worried look (everyone was staring), Bella stood up.

"I wouldn't wish to keep you waiting, sir," she said politely.

"Very well then."

When Dumbledore turned around, Bella mouthed to Tom: 'as if!', to which his lip quirked.

There. She'd proven that she held no regard for the man. That should be enough to nip any ensuing gossip in the bud.

Now Bella only had to find out what Dumbledore actually wanted.

Merlin's beard, today really wasn't her day.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dumbledore's office was a cluttered hay-stack. And Bella meant that literally. Not only did it look incredibly unrefined and peasant-like; the room had actual hay in a corner. A moss-covered rabbit sat peacefully on the hay and was currently looking at them expectantly.

"Ah, I see you've spotted Nirvana," said Dumbledore conversationally, as though having a rabbit in one's office were completely normal.

(A green, moss-covered, behemoth of a rabbit.)

Bella made a noise of assent in the back of her throat as she subtly studied the whole office from top to bottom. If she took note of as many peculiarities as she could, she'd be able to spin a hilarious tale about Dumbledore's oddities later on. Meanwhile, as though this were all a perfectly normal occurrence, Dumbledore drew a carrot from some obscure pocket in his robes and proceeded to feed it to Nirvana.

Thrown off balance by the strangeness of the situation, Bella decided to break there ice and cut to the chase.

"Professor? Is something the matter?" she prompted wryly. "I need to finish packing a few things into my trunk, if you don't mind."

"Yes, yes," said Dumbledore as he twirled towards an armchair. With slight bewilderment, Bella realised that the armchair had wheels on it. Wheels! "You must forgive my absent-mindedness, Bella," Dumbledore carried on. "The end of the year never fails to leave one a little scatterbrained."

Bella's lips quirked in amusement, thinking of what her friends would say if she repeated this. Misinterpreting her expression, Dumbledore beamed. Bella suddenly felt a little bad for making fun of him.

"See, as a fellow concerned Profesor," Dumbledore began, "I've taken the liberty to grade as soon as possible the tests of those students who have failed their practicals."

Bella's blood froze. No… he couldn't be implying…?

She bit her lip. It was common knowledge that a failing grade both in the practical and the theoretic exams would mean altogether flunking the subject, and worse yet, if Bella had ploughed two or more of the main subjects, she'd be held back for a year!

"You're not trying to say that I've fallen through, are you?" She asked with dread.

Something akin to sadness was reflected in Dumbledore's eyes. "I'm afraid you have, Bella."

Bella felt her heart plummet into her stomach. "No…" she cupped face in her hands. This couldn't be happening. "Not this too… I've already got enough to worry about with Tom-"

—Shite! She cut herself off abruptly. Bella shouldn't have said that. She didn't need her teacher to know all about her personal life. Least of all Dumbledore!

Unfortunately, the man now looked uncannily curious. And worried.

"I realise it might not be my place to ask…" Dumbledore ventured, "but is there any way I can possibly be of assistance, Bella? Has Tom mistreated you?"

"No!" Bella bit back. "It's got nothing to do with me!"

Wait. Crap! What had she done? Bella chewed on her lip. Shite, she'd made yet another mistake. By claiming that she had no involvement, she was automatically making Tom look all the more guilty. And it didn't help that Dumbledore was already suspicious of Tom as it was. If only Bella had pretended the situation was some kind of mundane trouble…! No. Bella couldn't abide this. She couldn't have this happen to her boyfriend, of all people. But perhaps things were still salvageable. Depending on how she played this, Bella just might manage to pull the wool over Dumbledore's eyes.

After all, she had always been a good actress, and the current situation called for just that. As for the role… a drama queen was in order.

"The thing is, sir… life's hard for me right now," Bella confessed. "You know Dorea Black, Professor? It's just, she _utterly_ hates me! Just this morning, for instance, she actually called me ugly, vain and a bimbo! And that was only in the span of a minute. Imagine having to deal with that every single day, for six years! I am just _so_ worn out."

"Perhaps a truce with Ms Black would be in order?" Dumbledore volunteered.

"Oh, believe me, I've tried," Bella lamented with a dramatic sigh. And she had. She'd tried to make Dorea one more face in her clique, but that had gone about as well as bathing a stray cat.

"She's not amenable?" Dumbledore guessed.

Bella nodded, expression contrite. "I mean, she's _completely_ rejected any overtures of friendship I've ever made." Which were none, but Bella was sure that if she had, she'd have been snubbed for her troubles. "And if Dorea constantly hates on me, then what choice do I have but to defend myself, Professor? I'm perfectly capable of doing so, mind you."

That last bit she couldn't resist but to add; Bella still had her pride after all.

"I can see that you've got this handled," Dumbledore concluded, giving Bella a wink. "Nevertheless, I fail to understand Tom's role in all of this?"

And… they'd gone in a full circle. By the looks of it, her transfigurations professor was a man on a mission and not to be deterred. Bella would have to change her approach.

"What makes you think Tom's involved, sir?" She asked with measured tenseness. This needed to look like she was hesitant to reveal Tom's involvement.

"I do believe his name was the first you mentioned upon the receival of my unfortunate news, Bella," said Dumbledore gently. "My impression was that these were only an added shadow on a cloudy firmament."

And that just earned you a carrot, my good sir.

"It's just, gosh, fine, it does sort of tie in with Tom," Bella relented.

"Indeed?"

"Yeah. But the main culprit isn't him," Boy, no, Bella had found a much better scapegoat. "It all started with a stupid spat over quidditch," she began. And wasn't that an idea… Dumbledore was a former gryffindor, Bella knew. And as such, he ought to have some house-pride. Depending on how she played her cards, she just might be able to twist this greatly in her favor. "The thing is, Professor… that something happened in the quidditch match the other day. You wouldn't know, because it's been kept under wraps, but…"

"Yes?" Dumbledore leaned forward.

"It was the last of the season, and tensions were high. Dorea, the nasty chit, actually went and tripped gryffindor's best chaser. Tragic accident, I know. Conveniently two hours before the final. And as the potions stores of the healing potion were depleted, the guy couldn't play. And that was enough of a handicap against gryffindor for Dorea to win the match and take all the credit, since he was the guy who'd be shadowing her!" Bella was on a roll. "Partly because I was jealous, but mostly out of indignation, I spoke my mind in the middle of the celebratory party after the match, where all the inebriated quidditch hooligans could hear. I flat out told them it was a lowly way to win, and that Dorea should be ashamed. It was stupid of me, I know."

"Perhaps it was," Dumbledore agreed. "Though I must say, I respect your candidness," And was that possibly a jab at Bella's lies? It couldn't be, could it? Up to this point, she'd barely so much as fibbed; only limited to stretch the truth here and there to her benefit, thusly setting things up nicely for the grand finale. Now she only needed Dumbledore to repeat his earlier question and they'd be set to go.

"However, Bella, forgive me if I still fail to see Tom's involvement in any of this fascinating tale?"

Ah, there it was. Hook, line and sinker.

"Oh, _that_," Bella replied sardonically. "It doesn't matter. He probably doesn't even realise how much he hurt my feelings." Bella ought be dramatic for her problem to seem believably childish.

"Tom is a smart boy," Dumbledore commented. "I'm sure he'd be open to talk with you about it." Ah, it was all unraveling! And now Dumbledore was even singing Tom's praises. Bella inwardly smirked.

"Oh, I don't know, sir. He's done nothing wrong. In fact, Tom was the hero of the hour."

"Then what seems to be the problem?" Check. She had this in the bag.

"He was Dorea's hero, that's what! Tom jumped in to defend that lying bimbo, even though I'm his girlfriend. He should have sided with me for emotional support! The worst part is that Tom truly believes that Dorea didn't trip up that chaser on purpose, so I can't fault him for it! And now I feel conflicted. You must think me a moron." Bella heaved a dramatic sigh. She almost thought Dumbledore was going to agree, but he didn't.

"Love knows no reason, Bella. I can't find fault in that."

Bella smiled. "That's awfully kind of you, sir." And now that was a genuine smile. She had done it. She'd effectively evaded a crisis. The best thing was that she'd barely even lied. There had in fact been a spat over the quidditch finale in the slytherin common room, one which Bella had started. It had ended rather differently, however. It had actually been what made Bella and Tom get together.

Just as she'd told Dumbledore, Bella had spoken up against Dorea, and in less than a minute, she had single-handedly managed to completely rile up a whole crowd of inebriated quidditch fans. They'd jointly ganged up on her, and Bella had to admit, it hadn't been pleasant. But then Tom had stepped in. He'd alienated practically the entirety of slytherin, and he'd done it for Bella. He'd tortured the raving hooligans with unrelenting logic and sharp arguments, and before long, they'd scampered off with their tails between their legs.

The best thing was that Bella knew for a fact that Tom didn't give a toss about quidditch. No, he had taken Bella's side only because she was in it.

Smiling furtively at the memory, Bella felt warmth spreading in her. Last night must've been a misunderstanding. She was sure that, given the right context, it would all make sense. Tom wasn't heartless.

"It seems we have managed to veer quite off topic," Dumbledore commented.

Bella snapped back to the here and now.

"True. Let's see… You were telling me there might be a chance for me to avoid falling through?"

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "Starting this year, students who have failed will be allowed to partake in make-up testing at the end of summer. I must warn you however, it might be harder than the ordinary exams."

That was fine. Bella was just glad for the chance to set things to rights again. She must pass the make-up test no matter what.

"As I understand it, you have also failed Defence Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore carried on. "This would qualify you to fall back a year unless you pass the examinations at the end of summer."

Couldn't a girl get a break? Bella bit her lip. "I… thanks for the heads-up, sir." Then, something else occurred to her. "Why do you say the tests will be harder?"

"Ah, right to the point, I see. You must understand, Bella, that my fellow faculty members will be sacrificing a part of their vacation to do you a favour. As a result, all of the core subjects you wish to be graded for will be tested at once, in a practical exercise."

Ouch. Well, he had a point. It would be a lot harder than an ordinary examination. "How are we expected to prepare for that, though?" Bella asked with mounting dread. "We can't do magic outside of Hogwarts."

"And who said you cannot return? You are welcome to use the floo network to travel here, Bella. This service will only be available for students in your situation, though I must warn you, lunch and accommodations will not be provided."

"I see…" Bella gulped. This put a drastic halt to all her summer plans. "Was there anything else?"

"Just one thing. You are expected to come here the day after tomorrow, Bella, so that I may debrief you on what you will be needing to work on. I will have to speak to the rest of your professors first, however."

Bella sighed. "Alright. I'll be here."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The Hogwarts Express was full to the brim of excitable students who were looking forward to the summer holidays.

Bella wasn't one such student. After her conversation with Dumbledore, she'd taken a long walk around the grounds, trying to process the fact that she might be falling through the year. When she'd finally mustered the courage to return to her room for her things, the dorms were already vacated… so now Bella would have to face her friends once she got onto the train.

For the first time in her life, the Hogwarts express was not a welcome sight.

Finding the Slytherin compartment wasn't too difficult, as it was as always right at the front. Bella put her trunk down on the floor and reached for the door handle. She steeled herself; so what if they judged her? She'd simply have to pass the exams at the end of August. Peace of cake.

Bella slid the door open. Five pairs of eyes turned towards her.

"Ah, Aisha. Let me get that." Ever the gentleman, Tom wandlessly levitated Bella's trunk next to all the others.

"Show-off," accused Bella teasingly, though she couldn't deny that she was pleased. As a kid, she had been able to perform a few wandless tricks herself, though after the acquisition of her wand, she'd seen no point to continue employing them. Now she could barely do anything, never mind levitate a heavy object.

Heavier yet was the elephant in the room, Bella knew. Taking the initiative was always was best, hence why she broke the ice with:

"So… you guys must be wondering why Dumbledore summoned me?"

Cassiopeia Burke barked out a laugh. "Yeah, tell us, please. Whatever did the old goat want with you?"

"He's not that old, you know," Bella contradicted. Noticing the perplexed looks everyone was shooting her, she added: "Instead of 'old' goat, I'd call him an odd goat. Fits rather well, don't you think? And on that note, are goats usually into rabbits?"

Now everyone was shooting her half perplexed, half curious looks of hilarity, and Bella knew that she had her audience in the bag.

"Ah, well, you wouldn't believe what Dumbledore's got in his office…"

Thusly, Bella was able to entertain the group of slytherins for a good half an hour, until everyone dispersed to do their own thing. Tom went to the prefects' compartment, Abraxas Malfoy trotted after him to go check on his girlfriend (or rather, to get a last snog out of her), and Lucretia went to the bathroom. She coincidentally disappeared into the bathroom a lot once a month, and, unless she was a weird mutation of werewolf, Bella was pretty sure that it must be because of period problems. She'd probably stay there for a while. That only left Bella with her two alleged best friends, Georgia Michaelis and Cassiopeia Burke.

Bella instantly realised that the two gossip-lovers would be expecting to have some kind of meaningful conversation with her, as was tradition on the last day before summer. And worse yet, if Bella failed to captivate them utterly, one of them might remember that she hadn't gotten to explain away what Dumbledore actually wanted.

Bella wanted neither to entertain them nor to talk about her remedial lessons for the summer, so she settled on fleeing the situation altogether.

"You know what, girls? I'm gonna go check up on Tom. His meeting with the prefects can't last that long, right?"

"You know how they are, Bella," sighed Cassio. "And besides, Tom will most assuredly be next year's head boy, so I wager he and Jann Dagsworth will have a lot to discuss."

"I can wait," Bella replied in clipped tones. "Old Sluggy will surely delight in my company."

Georgia pouted. "You'd rather be with that old fart than us?"

_I'd rather be alone, thank you very much._

Bella forced a cutely embarrassed expression onto her face. She'd have to take a page out of Dumbledore's book.

"You know how love is all about enduring, girls? Love waits. Call me crazy, but it makes me even willing to put up with Slughorn for Tom."

Actually it was for a nap, but they didn't need to know that.

"Oh, that's so cute!" Georgia exclaimed.

"All hail the power of love!" Cassio cheered. "I'm sure Tom will be touched that you'd wait for him!"

"Yeah, Yeah! Don't mind us, dear Bella!"

"Go on! Go on! Go get the guy!"

Bella was too tired for such enthusiasm.

"Will do," she said as brightly as she could manage. Then, she stalked out of the compartment and into the opposite direction of where Tom was.

Finding an empty compartment took a while, but Bella eventually did. She shut the curtains and cast a locking charm on the door. She'd be up in a while, she just needed a moment to herself…

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

When Bella woke up again, her head was resting on someone's lap.

It was Tom, thankfully. She'd almost thought some creep had found her. She studied his handsome profile for a moment. Tom was reading a book and looked fairly engrossed in it. Bella squinted at the title.

Essay on the Principal Differences between Practical Animation, Animated transfiguration and their Runic Symbolism.

Huh. Bella had to read the title twice to understand what it was actually about. Was this the kind of stuff Tom read in his free time? She would've expected him to be a little more adventurous, not secretly a nerd.

Or maybe he just wanted to impress Dumbledore… to make the Profesor think he was a transfigurations god… one never knew.

Bella resolved not to comment on it. Now more than ever, she really ought to take a page out of Tom's book. She frowned. Stupid exams.

Why was her boyfriend here, anyway? Hadn't she locked the door? Either Tom had been looking for her with a detection charm, or they'd both had the same idea and he'd actually been looking for an empty compartment. Bella was pretty sure the prefect meeting took place at the beginning of the year, not at the end.

"What are you thinking?" Tom was now looking partly at her, partly at his book.

"Just wondering whether you'd been wanting to ditch Georgia and Cassio as much as I did."

"Guilty of all charges, I'm afraid. What about you?"

Bella surmised that Tom was asking her why she wasn't holding court with her impressionable minions. Cassio and Georgia were only the tip of the iceberg, after all. There were a lot of people Bella should be saying her goodbyes to right now, more so now that she knew she'd probably be snubbing them over the summer.

"Ehhh, I had a headache."

Tom's brow quirked. "Stay up late?"

Bella froze. Think, think, think!

"Nah, I figure it was the booze," she replied with feigned nonchalance. "Fire whisky's heavy on the stomach, you know?"

"I must agree that it is a treacherous beverage."

"Precisely. Don't tell anyone, but the girls and I had a bit of a goodbye party last night. Though if you ask them, I'm sure they'd be happy to tell you all about our quaint little tea-time soirée."

Tom seemed rather amused, though it was sometimes hard to say what he was thinking, even for Bella. Still, she was fairly sure he hadn't noticed her lie. "Of course. Tea party. I'm sure Adams would know nothing about the secret passage to Hogsmead."

Adams was a fifth year with the fortuitous habit of sneaking out to Hogsmead. Even more fortuitous was his crush on Bella and the generous amount of goods he beseeched her with. Bella had suspected for a while that Tom was aware of the situation and found it hilarious. This just proved it.

"What passage?" She asked innocently. "Don't tell me the rumors are true?"

"Come now, there is no such thing. You ought not waste your time with such tripe, Aisha."

"Quite right. It's not like we used it just last week or anything."

Tom smirked. "Don't be outrageous, now. I'm a prefect."

"And I'm the pope." They both grinned.

"Shouldn't the pope go greet her fan base?" Tom retorted after a while.

"Fan base? You of all people are telling me this?" Bella might have a lot of contacts, but Tom's admirers were far more persistent. Unfortunately. Bella was trying to figure out whether her bolstered status as Tom's girlfriend would come at a price. Would the costs outweigh the benefits? "On second thought, why aren't you being hunted down by rabid admirers right now?"

"What can I say? I terrify them into submission. Besides, the rabies are as good as extinct in magical England."

Bella whacked him playfully for his cheek, but inwardly she was feeling slightly nauseous.

I terrify them into submission, he'd said.

Bella tried to tell herself that it was only a form of speech, but she knew now was not the time to be thinking such dangerous thoughts.

Later they'd haunt her, later.

"Rabies or no, you have way too many followers to your little cult for it to be legal," Bella teased with a smirk. She was being half-serious, though Tom didn't need to know that.

"I suppose it is totally uncouth for a pope to have a affiliates as well," Tom remarked drily, referring to Bella's own situation.

"What can I say? I'm my own brand of pope."

"Ah, pope brands, of course. I hear they are the new craze."

"Right."

Bella was growing bored of the idle chatter, and she had a feeling that so was Tom, if his earlier attempt to shoo her away could be relied on. She also didn't want there to be silence, for she knew where her treacherous mind would take care.

So she breezily blurted out the dirt thing that came to mind.

"I'm sure most pope brands aren't known for snogging their boyfriends in locked train compartments on the pretence that they are talking to Slughorn."

Tom looked up from his book. "That an offer, or are you just trying to get a raise out of me?"

"Who knows?" Bella did that thing with her hair which she knew looked good. It wasn't like she needed to look better, anyways, but there was such a thing as body language.

They spent a while kissing, a while in which all thoughts of last night's gathering were wiped from Bella's mind. After a thorough make-out session, both her and Tom went on their way to say goodbye to all their friends. Bella couldn't help but wonder whether the boys she'd seen last night were amongst the select few "terrified cult admirers" Tom would say goodbye to. Few was of course a form of speech, as Tom was on friendly terms with so many people that even a small fraction of them would be a respectable number.

Bella caught herself thinking about this just as she was hugging Clare Selwyn goodbye and immediately felt horrible. No, that wasn't the word. She felt torn. She realised that kissing Tom right now hadn't solved any of her problems at all. On the contrary, it had opened a door that, on second thought, Bella might have wanted to stay closed.

Ugh, she was _such_ an moron.

And with these thoughts in mind (and not a spare goodbye for Tom, whom she didn't care to look for), Bella exited the Hogwarts Express.

Summer vacation had officially started.


End file.
